


Blazin' Good Time

by iselsis



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fire, Gen, Heat Stroke, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd is a Reluctant Good Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 00:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30013098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iselsis/pseuds/iselsis
Summary: Jason didn't think through how he was going to getoutof the burning building once he had the little girl, but, luckily, his dad has his back.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 21
Kudos: 451





	Blazin' Good Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harmonique](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harmonique/gifts).



> For Ellie!

Crime and Gotham got along like a housefire, which was appropriate considering that the apartment building was in the process of burning to the ground after contracting a bad case of arson.

Almost everyone was out. _Almost_ everyone, but one lady had noticed that her neighbor’s young daughter was missing. The neighbor was sitting in a puddle sobbing about ducklings for some reason, so Jason was going to assume she was too high to notice. His heart had twisted and he’d set down the old lady he’d just carried out, finagling her oxygen tanks awkwardly, and run back into the blaze.

Unlike what most people thought, fire wasn’t actually very triggering for him. The head trauma had made the last few minutes of his first go around a blur. He remembered a few things very clearly: the laughter, the shift of his bones as he dragged them across the floor, the door being locked, the brief flicker of hope, and the concussive boom as the bomb went off, but that didn’t mean Jason was thrilled about charging headfirst into a burning building.

The other bats were several minutes out, though, so he didn’t have much choice.

The west side of the building was completely engulfed, but, luckily, the girl was supposedly in the east side. Less luckily, she was on the top floor, and even Pit-enhanced muscles could only take so many flights up and down the stairs. By the third floor, his legs were burning, and the entire stairwell was hazy with the smoke pouring from underneath the doorways. It was a good thing that his helmet had such good filters, because in this part of town, most those apartments would have had at least some drugs in them and at least one of the residents was definitely selling low-quality weed.

The heat, though, wasn’t so easily escaped. The concrete stairwell was like an oven, making him sweat. The leather and body armor would protect him to an extent from burning debris if necessary, but it wasn’t his friend at the moment.

By the time he hit the fifth floor, the fire had jumped across from the west to east side of the building on the lowest floor, cutting off any retreat that way. That was…not good. He had a grapple, yes, but he was in the highest building in a hundred feet, so it would be tricky to grab any of the nearby two-stories. He could hook it to the roof of the building he was on, but the roof _would_ be on fire very soon if it wasn’t already.

That was a problem for later.

The door to apartment 502 was locked, and there was smoke pouring out from underneath. _Dammit_. Jason stepped back to get some momentum, ignoring the way he swayed or the sweat that dripped down his brow, and rammed it with his shoulder, knocking the door from its hinges.

A pillar of smoke and heat billowed out from the apartment, and Jason recoiled on instinct before sprinting into the room.

The ceiling was on fire, tongues of flame licking above him, but it was holding for now.

“Kid!” he called, not holding much hope for the kid being conscious—possibly not even alive. “Kid!”

The apartment was small, but he could barely see. He cleared the living room first, then the kitchen, and then passed through there into the bedroom.

The bedroom was empty too.

If he had just risked his life—he swayed, catching himself against the doorframe. He had—Jason blinked hard and put a hand to his helmet. Even through the thick leather glove, the metal burned.

Dammit, _dammit._

Jason fumbled with the latches on the helmet until he could get it off and throw it away. He didn’t want to risk the bomb inside going off from the heat, and he didn’t want to bake, either.

There was a groan from above, then a wave of fiery debris rained down in front of him. He had to get out of the apartment—

There was a small whimper coming from under the bed.

Jason took a deep breath—choking on the smoke, that was stupid, he knew better—and stumbled forward, around the burning rubble between him and the bed. He practically collapsed in front of it, and had to take a solid second before he could lift the bed skirt.

Underneath the bed was huddled a terrified young girl, maybe five or six.

Jason reached out a hand, coughing too much for words, and she was coughing too much to do anything more than reach out and take the hand.

Jason pulled her out more roughly than he should have, but he didn’t have the time or brain space for gentle. He yanked her against his chest and bent over her to shield her from any more debris. The room was getting hotter and hotter. Jason would never get the smoke smell out of his armor, an optimistic thought that assumed he was going to survive.

Jason crawled past the spreading fire on the floor, half to stay below the smoke, half because he just couldn’t get up. He had to…the Bats were coming…they—He should have told them where in the apartment he was, but his comm had already been lost with his helmet.

He reached the far wall, blinking in surprise at its arrival. Wall…why had he cared about a wall?

His gaze drifted up and landed on the window.

Oh. Yeah.

Jason dragged himself up with his fingers on the window sill until he could dig them under the window frame and push up on it.

The window stuck for a moment, and for a moment of terror as searing as the heat at his back, Jason thought the window was locked and he was going to have to actually stand up to unlatch it, but then it gave and shot up.

A breath of fresh air hit him, and Jason sighed in relief.

Gritting his teeth, Jason hooked his arm out over the window and pulled, hauling himself up enough to look out the window.

A blur of red whooshed by. Finally.

“Red!” Jason shouted as loudly as he could. “RED!”

Red Robin switched directions and swung back towards him. Good. Jason could work with that.

The little girl trembled as Jason pushed her up and sat her in the window frame. He looked out, down to where Tim was swinging by. Tim gave him what he really hoped was a nod, and Jason pushed the girl out the window.

Jason slumped against the wall with a groan. His vision was swimming with black and gray, smoke, death, or unconsciousness. Jason wasn’t even sure he cared. It had been a niceish life. Both of them had been good enough.

He let his eyes drift closed with a smile. His last action was saving a child. Maybe B would probably be proud of him.

There was a thud and he felt vague movement. Had the floor collapsed underneath him? That was nice.

Jason woke up, not dead.

That was interesting.

He wondered how that had happened.

Jason shifted, trying to comfort sore muscles, and _searing_ pain shot through him. Ugh, apparently he hadn't been dead long this time, or at least he hadn't been healed this go around. Or maybe he’d actually lived, but he didn’t know how.

He turned his head anyway, trying to find any kind of answer.

Bruce’s eyes were boring into him.

Jason blinked.

“You’re a creep, B,” he mumbled as the pieces fell into place. Bruce had gotten him out after he’d collapsed, but immediately before he passed out, and brought him back to—where was he? He glanced around as much as he could without moving his head. The room was mostly barren, but he recognized it as “his” guestroom at the manor.

Bruce huffed and reached forward. “A creep. Definitely.”

Bruce ruffled his hair, and Jason melted against his will. The hand was warm and heavy on Jason’s head, but it was comforting in a way that reached far beneath the surface.

Tears pricked at his eyes. “Thanks Dad.”

Bruce had saved him this time. He’d made it.

“Of course, Jaylad." Bruce's voice was thick, and his fingers twisted in Jason's curls. "I love you.”


End file.
